


At the Jasmine Dragon

by vifetoile



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gratuitous talk of opera, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vifetoile/pseuds/vifetoile
Summary: Korra and Asami take a cup of tea with Mai and Zuko.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For my big sis, who needed this.

“Asami, _relax_. It’s only Lord Zuko and his Lady. You’ve _met_ them.”

“Only Lord Zuko.” Asami said to her reflection in the mirror.

 “Well, you’ve met him in pretty dire circumstances. After that,” Korra shrugged, “a cup of tea is nothing to worry about.”

“Korra, this isn’t grabbing a bowl of ramen on Littlefish Street. This is _tea._ With _royalty_. This is… This is…”

“Asami. _Breathe_.” Korra knelt next to Asami and took her shoulders gently. “This isn’t a ceremony, or a diplomatic meeting, or anything in the least fancy. I’m the one that should be nervous, you know. It was only seventy years ago that Zuko was trying to hunt and assassinate the Avatar.”

Asami’s eyes widened.

Korra felt the need to point out, “That was a joke.”

“But it was true.”

“Oh, man, you are just a wreck.” Korra got up and kissed Asami’s forehead. “But I know that as soon as we step into that tea shop you are going to be Miss Elegance and Grace. I just know it!”

Asami smiled at that. “I can’t believe how relaxed you are.”

“Well, I’ve got the most beautiful lady in the Fire Nation on my arm. And I ain’t too bad looking, either,” Korra added. Asami blushed and then laughed.

Korra glanced at the wall clock. “We ought to get going.”

“Last minute check,” Asami said. She checked her reflection in the mirror, and took out the last pin that she’d added to her hair. Two black locks tumbled down. She checked her red dress and gold shawl, and decided that she passed muster. She inspected Korra, who was wearing a blue-grey suit, and declared her fine.

“Hell, yeah, I’m fine,” Korra said, making Asami laugh again and push her out the door.

The Ember Island air was warm and humid, and it was a bright day. They took a shortcut past Ember Town’s main square, avoiding the crowds. Even on this quiet route, they passed by a couple of posters for _The Quest for Honor_ , the new operetta produced by the Ember Island Players. They crossed a bridge over a canal, and entered the theater district by a small street.

“How are you doing?” Korra asked her girlfriend.

“Better,” said Asami. “The fresh air and walking around helps.”

“I’m sure they’re going to love you,” Korra assured her. “Even if you accidentally step on the tatami mats with the wrong foot, or something.”

“Oh, no, do you think the floor will have tatami mats? There’s a –“ Asami saw the look on Korra’s face, and faltered – “a specific… etiquette… for that. You were teasing me, weren’t you?”

“I’m admiring how dedicated you are to aspects of politeness I never even thought of. Maybe I should,” Korra added. “But really, think of these two as like my long-lost cousins. Distant relatives. Slightly – odd relatives.”

“Your relatives _do_ tend to be odd,” Asami mused.

“Does that help?”

“A little.”  

They knocked at the back door of a large teahouse. The door opened to reveal an impeccably dressed young waitress. She appraised them with one look, then gave a little bow. “We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon.”

She led them through the kitchen, and then into a garden, full of chamomile flowers and tea bushes of every kind. The maid rapped at a closed screen, where two empty pairs of shoes were already resting.

“Come in,” said a man’s voice from inside. Korra squeezed Asami’s hand.

The maid carefully slid the door open. Seated at a low table were Lord Zuko and Lady Mai. Both wore old-fashioned robes, mostly dyed red. Her robes were trimmed in silver; his, in gold.

Asami and Korra bowed to them, and the Lord and Lady bowed in return.

“Welcome,” said Lord Zuko, “May I present my wife, Lady Mai?”

Lady Mai gave a little smile to the guests. Her hair was bound, as always, in two _odango_ , and the tails fell in silver and black to her knees. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“The honor is ours,” said Korra.

Lord Zuko lowered his one eyebrow. “Is that enough talk about honor?” he asked. “We’re only going to see a whole play about it tonight.”

Lady Mai said to him, “Yes, you’ve filled your quota of politeness.”

“See?” Korra whispered not-so-quietly to Asami, as they began to remove their shoes. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

They placed their shoes outside the screen. The maidservant closed the door, and Korra and Asami knelt on the floor. There was a sound of a bubbling fountain – probably back in the garden – and an iron pot sitting on a tidy little brazier. Along the western wall, there was a little shelf of pottery, and along the northern wall, a scroll.

“Master Katara sends her warmest regards,” Korra addressed the Fire Nation royals, who thanked her.

“This is a lovely room,” Asami commented. “The calligraphy on the scroll is beautiful.”

“‘Hope is all we have,’” Korra read off of the scroll. “That’s… um… that’s poignant.”

“Oh, that old thing?” Lord Zuko glanced at it.

“Be nice,” Lady Mai chided him. To Asami and Korra, she explained, “That scroll is a bit of calligraphy practice done by our daughter, Song. It’s a quote from _The Boy in the Iceberg_.”

Lord Zuko muttered, “I never cared for that play.”

“No?” Korra asked. “But it’s a classic! You _have_ to see the production in Republic City!”

“I hear that one’s a musical,” Zuko said.

“It’s a musical on ice!” Korra said.

“That doesn’t help.”

Asami tried to salvage the conversation. “I… I’m surprised to see calligraphy by a princess in a, um, how do you say it…”

“A public teahouse?” Lady Mai asked, a little gleam in her eye.

“Yes.” Asami gave up. “It’s lovely work, of course, but I didn’t expect…”

“Song worked at this teahouse when she was a girl,” Lady Mai said. “She donated the scroll as a memento.”

Meanwhile, Korra was still quizzing Lord Zuko. “So you don’t like musicals? Well, I have bad news for you, sir. We’re seeing an opera tonight. That’s like a musical, but worse.”

“I’m rather looking forward to it,” said Lady Mai. “But let us wash our hands before we start talking theater.”

The guests and hosts washed their hands, and then Lord Zuko bent fire into the brazier. He commented, when the fire was nice and steady, “It’s not that I dislike musicals. I just have a rather personal connection with _The Boy in the Iceberg_. I had a bad first impression, you might say, which not even the modified ending can fix.”

“That’s a shame,” said Korra. “I enjoy it quite a lot. You know, now that I think of it, Master Katara feels the same way about that play.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t yet made a play about _you_ ,” Lady Mai said.

“Oh, Varrick has suggested a mover about me about a dozen times.” Korra gave an uncomfortable shrug. “He imagines an epic, four hours long with an intermission…”

“You don’t sound certain,” said Lady Mai.

When Korra didn’t answer, Lord Zuko gently offered, “It was hard for me, seeing _The Boy in the Iceberg_ so close to the events it depicted. It was rather painful.”

“Yes,” Korra said. “Yes, that’s it. There’s plenty that I’d rather not see again, let alone on a big screen. So I’ve told him to wait.”

“At least he asked permission,” said Lady Mai.

“How is the old scoundrel?” Lord Zuko asked.

“Varrick and Zhu Li are doing well,” said Korra. “They’re on location in the Northern Water Tribe now, shooting another project.”

“ _Under the Dancing Lights_ ,” Asami supplied.

“I remember the dancing lights,” said Lady Mai. “I always liked the scientific term, though. _Aurora Borealis_. Couldn’t be more romantic.”

“As I recall,” Lord Zuko said, “You spent most of our last trip complaining about your fingers turning to ice and falling off.”

“I _am_ rather attached to my fingers,” was the cool reply. “Speaking of ice, however…” She rapped on the rim of the interior screen, the one that led into the teahouse proper. After a short time, the screen slid open and the same waitress from before appeared. She offered to Lady Mai a little tray, with four round lumps of _mochi_. Vapor steamed off of the rice paste, which had clearly just come from an ice chest.

Lady Mai took the tray and the waitress disappeared again behind the screen. Lady Mai proffered the tray to the guests, and explained the flavors. Korra took the green, pistachio flavored mound, while Asami tried the plum. Lord Zuko picked the one that had a jasmine blossom sitting alongside, and finally Lady Mai took the red bean paste.

Asami took a modest little bite, and found to her delight that the _mochi_ was filled with plum ice cream. Korra giggled at her surprise, and turned thoughtful after she bit into her own.

“My first night on Air Temple Island,” She said, “Pema served roasted pistachios and fruit for dessert. The taste of pistachios takes me right back to that night.” She smiled, a bit sadly. “I was so young then.”

“Talk about young,” said Lord Zuko, contemplating his own piece. “This jasmine… ahhh. It’s like the last seventy years never were. You’ll understand, when you get to be our age.”

“Red bean paste was the only thing I wanted to eat when I was expecting with Izumi,” said Lady Mai, shocking Asami into a blush. “Remember that, dear?”

“Oh, I remember,” said Lord Zuko. “That, and cabbages. What about you, Asami? What does plum remind you of? As long as we’re sharing.”

“I just like plum flavor,” Asami said. “I always have. It’s like eating a flower.”

Lady Mai nodded, and Lord Zuko held a hand to the teakettle. “I think it’s ready,” he said.

He quieted the flame with a gentle motion of his hand, while Lady Mai took out the sifter and the scoop. She sifted matcha into a bowl while he readied the whisk and the pot. They worked in perfect harmony together – when one reached for a tool, the other had it to hand.

Korra slipped her hand into Asami’s, as if to say, ‘ _That’ll be us, one day_.’

When the tea was ready, Lord Zuko offered the first cup to Korra, and then to Asami. He served his wife, and then himself.

“This is delicious,” Korra said.

“Exquisite,” said Asami.

“Better than it was last time,” said Lady Mai.

Lord Zuko tasted his own work and gave a little nod. “Not bad,” he said.

“I think your Uncle would have liked it,” Korra said. She blanched, as if she may have gone a step too far, but Lord Zuko smiled.

“You’ve had the pleasure of a cup of tea with him, yes? That’s my one hope for this play… as long as they get Uncle Iroh reasonably correct, I’ll be happy.”

“As long as they get _me_ correct, I’ll be happy,” said Lady Mai. Lord Zuko smiled.

Asami offered, “I’ve been reading about this opera in the newspapers. Everyone raves about the aria sung at the beginning of Act II – the one sung by, well, _your_ character, Lady Mai. The soprano.”

“I don’t remember doing much singing in my younger days,” Lady Mai took another sip of tea.

“The aria,” Asami went on, undaunted, “Is called ‘One Fine Day.’”

“I’ve heard it,” Lady Mai said. “A song about looking through a telescope, searching for the line of smoke from the beloved’s ship… that’s not how _I_ remember it.”

“I listened to a recording of it,” Asami said, defiant even though her voice grew smaller. “I loved it. A song about waiting for one’s love… it brought back memories.”

Lady Mai’s sardonic glance softened. She reached across the table and laid a hand on Asami’s. “I remember the waiting. I remember that too well.”

Korra slipped her hand into Asami’s free one. “Hey, now, don’t let’s get sentimental.”

“That’s my line,” said Lady Mai.

“I’ve heard that the alto who plays Azula has a ‘Mad Aria’ that is a wonderful place for the singer to show off,” said Lord Zuko, with a trace of bitterness in his tone. “I may not be able to watch that.”

Lady Mai nodded, her smile gone. Korra and Asami exchanged glances. Korra bridged the silence, saying, “Well, you seem to know more than we do. Anyway, the Ember Island Players’ effects are always spectacular, I’m told. I’m looking forward to _that_. I don’t understand opera very well.”

“It’s a peculiar art form,” said Lord Zuko. “But the Ember Island Players believe above all in making art accessible to the public. Often at the expense of accuracy.” He cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is… I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time.”

“Cheers to that!” Korra said, holding out her cup. They all clinked their cups together, and drank tea in a companionable silence for a moment.

Then Lady Mai checked her watch. “Dear,” she said, “now would be a good time to ask… the thing you wanted to ask.”

“Oh, yes.” Lord Zuko looked uncomfortable.

“You asked me to remind you.”

“I remember, I remember,” he said.

“What’s the matter?” Korra asked.

“Nothing’s the matter.” He looked from Asami, to Korra, and then, to their surprise, he smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “I have a favor to ask both of you.”

“Anything,” Korra said.

“Would you please call me ‘Uncle’?”

Korra smiled, and glanced at Asami, who looked equal parts starstruck and delighted. “Absolutely we will… Uncle,” she added a bit late. “I’m sorry, I don’t have very good experience with uncles.”

“That can change,” Asami promised her.

Asami then glanced at Lady Mai, who said, “You can call me Mai.”

“You’re very kind,” Asami replied.

“I’m not, actually, except to a very small number of people. But thank you,” Mai said. She turned to her husband. “Remember, dear, keep your complaining until _after_ we’re back in our summerhouse. You remember what happened with _Love Amongst the Dragons_.”

“I remember.”

“What happened?” Asami asked. Uncle Zuko suddenly looked very uncomfortable indeed.

“If you say ‘temper tantrum’…” he warned.

“He didn’t have a temper tantrum,” Mai said, “but he did complain after the curtain call. Rather loudly. In the lobby. An enterprising journalist overheard him, and…”

“It made for the stupidest scandal of my entire life,” he grumbled.

“It also ruined the poor revival of _Love Amongst the Dragons_ at the box office,” Lady Mai added. “Dear, just give this one a chance. It’s not every day one gets to see an opera about one’s life.”

“Care to bet on that?” Uncle Zuko asked her. She chuckled drily.

Asami and Korra suppressed smiles as they drank their tea. Asami put down her cup, and she was still smiling, but now in a slightly wicked way. “Korra?”

“Yes?” Korra asked over the rim of her cup.

“If you fall asleep…”

“I won’t!”

“… I will elbow you.”

“I won’t fall asleep!”

Asami raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend. “Remember the gallery opening?”

“I –“ Korra took a breath, put down her teacup, and explained to their hosts, “It was the opening of a new exhibit at Zei University. I didn’t realize the lecture on colonial tapestries and weaving would take three _hours_.” She glared at Asami. “I won’t fall asleep tonight.”

“Don’t worry, if you do, we won’t judge you,” said Mai.

Korra glared at Mai. Mai stared back. Korra was the one who cracked first, descending into giggles.

“I hate to rush a good cup of tea,” said Uncle Zuko, “but we should think about leaving soon.”

“I wonder,” Asami said dreamily, “what the actors are thinking and doing now, just before opening night.”

“Probably full of fear and trepidation,” said Mai. Uncle Zuko chuckled.

“The actors and the technicians,” Korra said, “are probably all excited, all getting ready for an evening of doing what they love best.” She held up her cup of tea, with one last swallow in it. “Here’s to that?” she offered.

“Here’s to that,” responded Uncle Zuko. All four of them clinked glasses and finished their tea. Mai summoned the waitress with a rap on the inner screen, and asked her to bring the car around. The four of them left the teahouse by the back door, and took a sleek red Satomobile to the theater.


End file.
